I started the year by having an MRI scan which revealed
hamstring tendinopathy and a stress reaction in my pelvis. This necessitated several weeks with no
exercise apart from swimming with a pull buoy to avoid using my legs. My planned 3-week warm-weather training camp
in Portugal became a holiday, which was lovely, but not what I wanted. And my plans for running in the UK 100k
Champs. were completely scuppered.
Eventually I was able to resume running and even managed a
few races through the spring and early summer, including winning my 30th
Warwickshire County road race medal. Things
were starting to look up, or so I thought, when I was selected for the
GB&NI team for the World 100km Championships to be held in Doha in
November. My selection was conditional
on ‘proving my fitness’ in a marathon scheduled for early September. I was confident that this would go to plan
and was really excited about the prospect of representing my country again. Training picked up well and my mileage was
building up nicely when, bang, I had a recurrence of the hamstring / stress
reaction injury. This was confirmed by
another, costly, MRI scan.
This time my physio decided that even pull-buoy swimming
should be avoided, and I had 10 weeks with absolutely NO exercise whatsoever,
as anything that involved moving my legs would cause traction of the hamstring
and therefore aggravate the injury. I
had no choice, therefore, but to withdraw from the team for the World
Champs. I was absolutely devastated and
was at one of my lowest points ever.
Little did I know, however, that things were about to get even worse.
Just as I tentatively resumed ‘running’ again in October
(first outing = 2 minutes very easy!) my coach, Les, was diagnosed with bile
duct cancer. This is, apparently, a very
rare form of the disease and due to the position of the lump by his liver it is
inoperable and therefore incurable. The
prognosis is not good and, as I’m sure you can imagine, the news came as a
massive shock to both of us. Not only
has Les coached me for the whole of my 28-year athletic career, he is my best
friend and soul mate, and we have become very, very close. This news has turned our lives upside down –
we had so many plans and dreams and hopes for the future but at the moment it
is like our lives are on hold and we’re just living each day as it comes. Les is still undergoing various tests and
biopsies before the doctors decide on a course of treatment which will,
hopefully, slow down the growth of the tumour and prolong his life for as long
as possible. Something like this really
puts things into perspective, and the devastation I felt with my injury seems
so insignificant and trivial now.
Les is such an amazing an inspirational person and we are a
true partnership. I don’t know a
‘running life’ without him; indeed I hardly remember my life at all without him
as a part of it. I undoubtedly wouldn’t
have got to the level I have in my athletics career without him. He is always there for me, both physically –
writing training schedules, coming to races with me, massaging me two or three
times a week, coming to my physio appointments with me, riding the bike on long
runs and carrying my drinks, overseeing my sessions with stop-watch in hand –
as well as emotionally. He’s always
there to pick me up when I’m down and to offer me positive thoughts when I’m
beating myself up about something. He’s
also quick to praise when things go well, and gets as excited as I do about our
successes! One of the best things about
my running, for me, is that I’ve had Les to share it all with – travelling all
over the world for races (and having a few days holiday attached), celebrating
the highs with him and having him there in the low points too. It’s made it all even more special because we’ve
shared it. It just won’t feel right in
the future not having him there as a part of it. And it’s not just my running life we share –
we deal with the highs and lows of everyday life together, he is the one person
I can talk to about absolutely anything, and we have so many other common
interests too – travel, photography, birdwatching, walking in the hills, and
eating cake to name just a few.
We are both immensely grateful for the fantastic times we
have been lucky enough to share – holidays to Nepal, Egypt, India and Tanzania;
numerous warm-weather training trips to Portugal; races (& holidays) in
Canada, Marrakech, Beirut, South Africa and all over Europe; walking in
Snowdonia and the Lake District; weekends away all over the UK for races, or
just chilling out; invitations to awards ceremonies and events celebrating my
(our) running achievements and much, much more.
We have been given so many opportunities, and had so much enjoyment and
we will both treasure those memories for ever.
Les always seems to be positive and strong, even though
inside I know he is scared and filled with disbelief and anger. He always maintains his sense of humour, even
now in what must be a horrendous time for him.
I just wish I could be as strong and positive as him. He is a truly special person and I hope I can
be there for him now, as he has always been there for me in the past.
Not everything in 2014 was bad – the birth of my second
niece and some happy family occasions were highlights, as well as a new kitchen
and lots of fun times with Les. But my
overriding feeling is that of devastation and disbelief. If I’m honest, I’m struggling to come to
terms with it all and I cannot even begin to imagine a future without Les. In terms of my running, I’m currently up to
about an hour’s easy running but haven’t done any quicker stuff or sessions
yet. Following my two stress reactions
last year my physio suggested I should have a bone density scan, and this has
revealed osteopenia in my spine. We’re
now looking at addressing this, in order to minimise any further bone-related
injuries.
2015 is filled with so much uncertainty but I just hope that
Les and I are able to make the most of the time that we do have together.
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